Rebirth on the Beach

Back from a road trip to Colorado Springs and I am super looking forward to getting in the water this morning.

I’m taking the day off as a “recovery” day. If I could I’d take a week. Hmm. Let’s make that a solid month. Oh and I never want to see a french fry again.

I leave early at about 7:20 because I need to be in Rancho Santa Margarita before 10 to pick up my dog from boarding and not have to pay for an additional day. Based on the total bill, all I have to say is that her accommodations must have been superior to what my family had at the Super 8.

One observation I made on this trip. The Tesla population in Dana Point far exceeds any town we passed through on this trip. I don’t think I saw a single one in Colorado Springs. Here I see multiple ones on every drive. There are three that regularly park on my block.

Throughout the trip I checked the Strands and Salt Creek webcams every day and it was almost always overcast, which was a stark contrast to the warm/hot weather of our trip with the exception of some snow going over some Colorado passes on Thursday. Anyways, this morning brings the same cloudy conditions. However, the air temperature is a pleasant 58.

When I get to the beach the water is smooth and there seems to be more cars parked than usual for a Monday morning. After I get out of the car it looks like there is a group of hiker/walkers about to embark on some kind of hike/walk.

Walking down the stairs is peaceful and it just feels nice to be here after being gone a week. I can see what looks like a recreational fishing tour boat out in the not too far off distance and I hear and see surf just below the bluff. From the reports, it looks like we have had steady and solid south swells all week.

It’s high tide when I finally get a view of the shore - starting to come down from a 4.3. Due to the surf, the larger sets are plowing into the rocks just below the ramp, but it looks like if I time it right, I can hustle down the first 30 feet of washed up shore to more beach further down.

I get to my spot and stash my pack on the top of the rocks. I only have to step up onto the base level of boulders to reach this - a month or two ago this would have required more of a climb.

I make my way out to the surf. It is not huge but this is the biggest surf I have seen here in months. It’s probably a bit overhead. I start to swim out and then pause as a set of waves crashes in front of me. I just hold my ground and dive under each as they come until the set passes. Then it is a quick swim past the “impact zone.”

The water feels great. I’d say it feels about the same as it did on my last swim on the 6th, which was also great. It’s cool but not cold and every once in a while I sense a temperature rise that I will describe as delightful.

Oh man it feels good to be out here. Throughout the entire swim there is a small nagging worry about the swim back to shore through this surf. However I don’t let it bother me. I can’t control it, I have no choice but to go through it and I know I have seen bigger surf.

I settle into my initial south bound journey to the end of the beach toward Dana Point. I see thoughts floating on the water right in front of my field of vision. Some are thoughts of regret and self loathing. I wish I could be this way or that way. I wish I was less selfish, fearful, and generally less weird in non-endearing ways.

I catch myself reaching for these thoughts. I want to examine and analyze them and assume that doing so will help me to overcome them. I push them under the surface of the water but they just pop back up. So I release them to the ocean. I just watch them and focus on the blue water that is all around me, the sandy floor below me, and the beach to the east of me.

Lots of Pelicans flying about this morning in large groups. Where are they headed I wonder? Some fly north and others fly south.

Once I head back north, I am lost in the horizon. There is a thin strip of lighter grey that lines the horizon with darker clouds just above. I let my mind rest on that distant divide separating water, air and cloud. The ocean gives to the clouds and they disperse to the ocean and the ocean holds me here on its surface.

The worrisome thoughts of the surf nearly disappear until I pause near my northern turn around point and see the spray of the breaking waves. The sets come in very consistently today with not a lot of time in between.

I make my way back and try to veer inland as I do since I am fairly far out. When it is time to cut to shore, I start heading east and once I am just shy of the surf notice I am farther south than I want to be. So I swim north again so I won’t end up over the larger rocks once I’m in the surf.

A large wave approaches and I am right where it will break so I head back out to dive under it and avoid the hit. I wait a few moments and don’t see another coming. So I head directly east swimming briskly but trying to keep calm so I have breath and a calm demeanor if I get caught. By the time the next break comes I am well inside and I let it just roll over me. I toss around a bit but then I feel the floor and realize I can easily walk the rest of the way in.

Somehow I overshot north and I come in a few houses past where my pack is.

As I walk along the beach I feel this familiar sensation of narrowing vision and the blues become more blue. I think I may pass out. This happens to me about once a year or two and almost always immediately after exercise. I take in some slow breaths and it passes, but once I reach my pack I feel it come again. I know enough now to sit on the sand and avoid a fall.

Then I find myself dreaming. In this dream I am on a beach and hear the surf and don’t have a good sense of who I am. Then I realize I am not dreaming. There is this thin membrane that separates dream from reality. Or is it just separating one dream from another? I can’t figure out which side of the membrane I am on. I feel like I have been just birthed onto this beach and newly incarnated into this body.

Gradually I regain my sense of identity and realize what just happened. I have sand all over me and a couple minor scrapes from probably tumbling over from my original kneeling position. Note for next time: lie down.

I have seen doctors about this a few times and have had tests and no one seems alarmed and the last time I was told that my heart and fitness were in excellent condition.

I really have no idea what triggers it other than high exertion followed by an abrupt stop but I experience that every day and I am not going to stop.

I come to, grab my pack and proceed onward to the stairs. I shower off at the lower bathrooms to get the sand off of me and put on a shirt and overshirt before heading up the stairs. Although I feel an odd sense of extra exertion, I do enjoy this walk up the stairs and just try to calmly take in every breath. Yeah it ended weird, but this was a great swim nonetheless.

For the next hour I try to reach into my mind and recall what was on the other side of that membrane. You have this feeling like you were somewhere else for a more than trivial amount of time. It’s like that movie Contact where Jodie Foster travels for hours even though Mission Control only reports her being gone a few seconds.

Welp, I’m eventually back at my car (not a Tesla) and off to hand over my life savings to my dog’s boarding facility.